The Goal In Sight Again
by Frohike
Summary: The sound of one heart breaking and an attempt at finding peace. Not a summary as much as my explanation for writing this fic.


The Goal In Sight Again

The Goal In Sight Again  
Author: Frohike  
Email: [frohike51@aol.com][1]  
Rating: PG  
Category: Krycek end fic  
Spoilers: Existence and a reference to The Field Where I Died. Stop groaning, I loved that episode. *g*  
Disclaimer: Fox Mulder and Walter Skinner belong 1013 and FOX. They're not mine, never will be, I make no such claim on them. Alex Krycek however, is another matter. The way I see it, once you've brutally executed a character he's up for grabs and I'm doing the grabbing. Want to fight me for him Mr. Carter?   
If you're looking for closure in Alex's death, you've come to the wrong fic. There is no closure here, as much as I'd like to offer it. If you're looking for solace, maybe this will help.  
Distribution: Anywhere you'll have me, just leave my name and email addy intact. Drop me a line and let me know where it's going so I can come and visit.  
Feedback: Yes, please. Praise will make my day. Flames will be used to lure Alex to my door. Either way, I win. Can you say 'incendiary device'? Sorry, inside joke. Talk to me people.  


Thanks to Nick Lea for the gift of Alex Krycek. I don't care who wrote the character, you gave him life. 

=============================

So this is how it ends? Things undone, tales left untold, no resolution to the problem. You'll never know, never understand your role in the grand scheme of things. I didn't expect you to roll over and die, Mulder; I expected you to react just as you did. If Skinner hadn't shown up, I might have been able to clear the air between us. I might have been able to make you understand. One word of trust, one leap of faith and I would have put the gun away. We could have been friends, Mulder. We should have been friends. 

I watched from the back of my mind as Skinner shot me, once, twice, three times. The cold-blooded execution came as a surprise. I knew that Skinner hated me, but this was over the top. Or so I thought, until he turned around. Did you not see it Mulder? Did you not notice the lump on the back of his neck? How could you have missed it? Jesus, Mulder, are you that far-gone? Wake up, damn it! You can't afford to be innocent anymore.

Maybe that explains your behavior. No reaction to the murder that happened before your eyes, my friend? No moment of sadness or hate? No swift kick to the gut to make sure I was really gone? You didn't even bother to spit on my corpse. I would have expected at least that from you. Have you lost your capacity for caring, Mulder?

I really did try to stop them, you know. No matter what you may think of me, if you ever think of me at all, I did try to stop them. I wanted you to win my friend. I still do. 

It's cold here on the concrete. Funny, I thought that death would have no hot or cold. I expected to feel nothing; guess the joke's on me. Sure could use a pillow under my head and some aspirin about now. Whoever said that you feel nothing once you die didn't know what they were talking about. My head is pounding and I'm hearing voices. They're getting closer. It's getting brighter. The pain in my head is going away. Oh Mulder, it's beautiful.

They're calling to me now; voices from the light. There are new babies in need of souls and I've been assigned already. They send the worst of us back the quickest it seems. No romping in the afterlife with buxom angels for me this time around. 

I move quickly into the light. This is weird, Mulder. There's this feeling of calm; I feel a part of everything and nothing. You know, I heard that tape you made under hypnosis. Laughed my ass off at your gullibility at the time, but now... Do you think it's true, Mulder? Do souls really come back together? That's what you said. "The souls come back together, different, but always together, again and again, to learn." 

Oh shit! Who pulled the ground out from under me? The air is whooshing by, I'm free-falling. What's happening? I'm scared, Mulder, I'm…

Warm, it's quiet. I'm jostled. I make a noise. What the hell kind of noise is that?

"Hey now. None of that."

Wait a minute, I know that voice. No way. No fucking way. I look up and laugh inside, incapable of laughing outwardly. Oh Mulder, you are NOT going to believe this one.

   [1]: mailto:frohike51@aol.com



End file.
